


You Only Live Twice

by ljunattainable



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Timelines, Challenges, Gabriel Big Bang Challenge, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:12:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljunattainable/pseuds/ljunattainable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shocked to find out about his own imminent death, Gabriel decides to do something about it.  It involves ingratiating himself with Team Free Will.  He makes new friends, rekindles his relationship with his younger brother and despite best intentions (well, sort of) to the contrary, changes a few things along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Only Live Twice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Gabriel Big Bang Round 3 ](http://gabriel-bigbang.livejournal.com) on LiveJournal. Art by [ last-winterrose ](http://last-winterrose.livejournal.com).

[](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/last_winterrose/34445212/5911/5911_600.jpg)   


### Chapter 1

This is the weirdest thing, and not in a good way.  
Gabriel had a sense of something catastrophic, of course, that’s why he’s here in the first place. But this. Dad, this is not good. He shifts the curtain a little to see through the tiny gap. He can’t even fucking imagine how he got himself into this mess. He does not get in-between his two elder brothers and their epic pissing contest and he definitely doesn’t help his weird little brother and his two pet monkeys.

Okay, he can see how he might get a bit weak-kneed for Kali, who is really the only one who’s ever had much of a lasting impact on him over all his millennia of existence, but he’s got the survival instinct of mama tiger and he doesn’t die for anyone, especially not a girl.

And that’s all this can be. He’s been pulled a week into the future to watch himself having a showdown with Lucifer, of all his brothers. It’s just… it’s just… he doesn’t know what the fuck it is. He peers out of the gap again. His future self looks like him, sounds like him, but he’s doing stupid stuff. Stupid stuff that isn’t like him at all and that’s going to get him killed.

“Lucifer, you're my brother. And I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks,” he hears his future self say.

“Wait, what did you just say to me?” Shit, Luci sounds pissed. Gabriel holds his breath in his hiding place.

“Look at yourself! Boo hoo! Daddy was mean to me, so I'm gonna smash up all his toys.” 

“Watch your tone.”

“Play the victim all you want. But you and me? We know the truth. Dad loved you best. More than Michael, more than me. Then he brought the new baby home and you couldn't handle it. So this is all just one big temper tantrum. Time to grow up.”

Gabriel can only imagine that sometime between last week and now he lost his mind. He doesn’t know how it happened but there is absolutely no other explanation. When the hell did he get so cocky with Luci? He’s never been cocky with Luci. Luci has always been fucking scary.

“Gabriel, if you're doing this for Michael...”

“Screw him. If he were standing here, I'd shiv his ass too.”

“You disloyal—“

“Oh, I'm loyal. To them!”

Who? Who is he loyal to? When did he get loyal to anyone?

“Who? These so called Gods?” 

Pff. Yeah, right. Gabriel bows down before no Gods. Except Dad, of course. Sorry, Dad.

“To people, Lucifer. People.” 

No fucking way!

“So you're willing to die, for a pile of cockroaches. Why?”

Nope, not willing to die. Not for people, not for Gods, not for a woman. Not willing to die. What the fuck is this? How did this happen to him? 

“Because Dad was right. They are better than us.”

Okay. This is not him. Only explanation.

“They are broken. Flawed! Abortions.”

“Damn right they're flawed. But a lot of them try. To do better, to forgive. And you should see the Spearmint Rhino! I've been riding the pine a long time. But I'm in the game now, and I'm not on your side, or Michael's. I'm on theirs.”

“Brother, don't make me do this.”

No! Gabriel, me, whoever. Don’t make him do this!

“No one makes us do anything.”

Frigging hell.

“I know you think you're doing the right thing, Gabriel. But I know where your heart truly lies.”

Gabriel watches in horror behind the curtain while the real future him creeps up behind Lucifer with his sword while Lucifer continues to talk to the facsimile his future self has created. As the real future him lunges forward, Lucifer catches his arm and stabs his own sword into real future him’s chest. 

“Here. Amateur hocus-pocus. Don't forget, you learned all your tricks from me, little brother.” Lucifer jerks the blade. In a burst of light, real future him dies.

“Fuck,” he says in a quiet voice from behind the curtain. Lucifer glances his way curiously. Gabriel gets the hell back to his own time before Lucifer’s curiosity lets him work out what just happened.

Back where and when he should be, he waves away the attention of the entourage that comes to greet him with an unusual lack of focus. Then he changes his mind and grabs the wrist of a flat-chested skinny chick and the guy with the pale blue eyes and the awesome hipbones, because seriously what was he thinking?

Dragging them along with him, he goes down to the private cinema and he pours them all a glass of champagne from the bottle that’s waiting in the ice bucket. The chick and the guy don’t drink theirs. They rarely do. They’re not entirely real, after all, but Gabriel drinks his. Then he finishes the whole bottle, and a second, and after the third he’s starting to feel a little calmer and he has a plan. It’s not a good plan, but that’s never stopped him before.

Little bro, Castiel, is going to be his savior. Okay, maybe he’s not sure how yet, but he’s obviously well in with Dad and having Dad on his side has got to be a good thing, right? And Gabriel knows Castiel and he knows how to play him and Castiel’s naivety is going to be easy to manipulate.

There was a time that Gabriel had been quite fond of his odd little brother. In the early days of humanity, Gabriel remembers a few trips to Earth, dragging a very young Castiel along as a companion. Gabriel hadn’t been able to find any of the other kids who had that much of an interest in the latest of their father’s pet projects. Right at the very beginning, they’d walked along the shore and stood watching until the first grey fish left the ocean on its long evolutionary path. ‘Don’t step on that fish, Castiel,’ he’d said, ‘big plans for that fish.’ 

Way back in the distant past, Gabriel had even tried his utmost to lead Castiel astray, in a purely harmless big-brother way, of course. But dear Castiel, straight-laced and obedient, much too serious but incredibly curious and always endearingly certain, had stood steadfast against Gabriel’s onslaught. All the more annoying, then, for Gabriel, is that Castiel has wavered under the influence of Dean Winchester of all people. Gabriel had never in his wildest dreams thought Castiel would be one to disobey and yet here they are. 

Trouble is, Castiel comes with the Winchesters, which isn’t ideal. Partly because they’re just serious irritants to his normally carefree existence, but mostly because he’s going to have to pretend to be frigging nice to them. 

Blue-eyed hip guy drips some cold champagne onto his nipple and starts pouting to get his attention. Distractedly, he pulls him up on to his lap and lets him lick and suck at his neck. It helps him think. 

The question is, how, of course. He only got pulled a week into the future and he’s not exactly pally with Castiel and the Winchesters these days, especially not after the TV land prank and sending Castiel off as a plaything for the dragon nestlings. The chances they’ll actually help him out of the goodness of their hearts are pretty much zilch.

Flat-chested chick leans across and starts making out with blue-eyed, hip guy. It works for Gabriel. He watches for a while before pulling himself back to the matter in hand.

Time travel. It’s the only way to travel. He doesn’t want to hang around the Winchesters any longer than he has to, but he probably needs to go back before he started dicking around with them too much. But there’s no way he’s going back as far as the Mystery Spot prank because that was frigging ages ago and anyway, it was too much fun. But realistically it probably has to be before the TV land and the baby dragons. 

He pushes flat-chested chick and blue-eyed hip guy off his lap but leaves them making out together on the couch. Normally he’d will them away but they look as if they’re having fun and he’s feeling magnanimous.

### Chapter 2

Gabriel still wants Lucifer to rise. If he doesn’t rise, how the hell is he going to kill Lucifer before Lucifer kills him? So given that Lucifer’s going to rise one way or another anyway, the later he sticks his nose in, the less risk there is of changing things in the new timeline that neither need to change nor should change. 

He can’t say he’s kept a sharp eye on what’s been going on in the lives of his brother or the Winchesters, so he’ll go back to the point where Castiel started having active doubts and work his way forward. 

He narrows it down to about the time the fallen angel Anna shows. Gabriel hadn’t known Anna. People don’t realize how humungous Heaven is and how many angels there actually are. It’s impossible for everyone to know everyone else, and as far as Gabriel is concerned, the garrison commanders are the worst for hierarchy and obedience and just downright righteousness and they’re really, really boring. He avoids them like the plague.

But Castiel had known Anna and Anna had been his commander and he’d respected her and she’d chosen to fall and that’s got to be confusing for someone like Castiel who wears loyalty and obedience like a security blanket.

Gabriel watches when the Winchesters find Anna. He watches as they interact, as Castiel hunts for her to take her home. He watches the conversations they’re not having as well as those they are, but he decides in the end that it’s much too early to drop himself into this timeline at this point. Castiel would as soon turn him in as listen to him.

He goes forward.

He’d heard about the deaths of the angels and he’d been sad but not sad enough to get actively involved. He’s come in at the end, drawn by the ripples caused by a fight between Uriel and Castiel. Drawn in fact by Castiel’s imminent death at the hands of another angel specifically, and by the fact that Anna is nearby. Of course, spoiler alert, Castiel doesn’t die, because he didn’t die and it’s Anna that saves him. 

Gabriel sucks on a suddenly-there strawberry lollipop while he watches the end of Uriel.

“There is no will,” Uriel says, punching Castiel hard. Gabriel winces as the blow fells Castiel. “No wrath.” Another punch. “No God!”

Uriel rears back for another blow, a fatal blow perhaps, when Anna appears behind him and stabs him through the neck.

“Maybe,” says Anna, “but there is still me!”

Anna pulls the sword out and stands by Castiel as they watch Uriel die. And Anna’s the one who catches Castiel when he falls and waits with him until he at least has the strength to stand and heal the superficial wounds.

Ah, ain’t that sweet, thinks Gabriel.

So, he thinks he could drop in to the timeline at this point. Castiel is well on the path to disobedience, the fact that Anna’s still alive proves that, but he’s still not quite there yet. Maybe he’s just delaying the inevitable meeting with the Winchesters and his brother. Maybe he’s chicken. Nah.

He goes forward anyway.

Gabriel has seen the inside of Heaven’s torture chamber before. Of course, they don’t call it a torture chamber in Heaven because that would give completely the wrong impression as Heaven is supposed to be, well, Heavenly to put it bluntly. But Gabriel’s under no delusions that the ‘Education Center’ is anything other than a carefully-disguised torture chamber. Few angels know it exists, even if most suspect, and even fewer have been unlucky enough to experience it for themselves. Gabriel’s never been on the receiving end, he’s frigging grateful to say - shivering at the very thought - and despite the fact it would be ludicrously hypocritical of him to pretend he’s fundamentally opposed to torture as a means to an end, he’s secretly proud that he’s never personally sent an angel into the center’s deceptively clean and bright, harmless-looking interior. 

Gabriel left the gilded cage of Heaven for many reasons, but he’s always been damn careful not to push things so far that he’d come onto the radar of those who sadistically use the chamber to encourage obedience. So he’s perturbed, to say the least, when his fast-forward through the edited highlights of the recent past brings him to a halt at this place. 

His first instinct upon hearing the screams of his brother is to skip past this point in time as he has done with the others, relying on the fact that yes, Castiel obviously survived this.

But for some reason, the thought of injuries by torture is so much worse than the thought of injuries by just plain fighting. So he’s annoyed with himself when, instead, he finds himself drawn closer. It bothers him, more than he’s willing to admit even to himself, that - in choosing to follow only the headlines coming from the weekly Heavenly newsfeeds he’d tuned into - he’d missed this the first time around. Given what he now knows about what Castiel has been getting up to on Dean’s behalf, he can’t say he’s particularly surprised to find him here. What does surprise Gabriel is that he actually cares, given that he’s really not the caring type. He’s not sure what he would have done if he’d been aware of it at the time, and somehow the uncomfortable suspicion that he wouldn’t have done anything bothers him too.

Not that he isn’t still fond of Castiel in an abstract kind of way, but interfering here is quite a bad idea. So he really should leave and move forward. He really should. But he doesn’t. Gabriel’s not at all happy with the way his brain keeps getting overridden by what he can only describe, annoyingly, as feelings. Maybe just a little peek won’t hurt? Just a check to make sure they’re not doing anything too horrible to Castiel. Gabriel mentally kicks himself for giving in as he moves closer and invisibly right into the room itself where the screams are coming from. There are distinct benefits to being an Archangel; being able to move incognito around Heaven is just one, though if he lingers too long they’ll be able to sense him, so whatever he decides to do it’ll have to be quick.

Heaven’s really just some very impressive light shows at times and the Education Center is no different. The room is blindingly bright, even by angelic standards, and the implements being used to ‘persuade’ Castiel are pure energy made up of what can only be described as torturous intent and the harnessed, abusive grace of the torturers themselves. It gives the impression of being inside a light bulb, the only differences in the color being that some whites are brighter than others. 

The exceptions to the overpowering white are the four torturers, Castiel and Zachariah. Gabriel has always despised Zachariah, but most angels do. He really should have known he’d have a hand in this somewhere. Zachariah’s form is glowing red in vicarious glee at Castiel’s agony, while the torturers themselves, who are doing their job because it is their job and not out of personal spite, radiate a much paler orange. Gabriel cringes in sympathy and something akin to heartache at the sight of Castiel himself, a dimmed, dirty-looking grey so at odds with his normal intense sapphire. 

Gabriel knows that in the true timeline, Castiel makes it out alive, makes it back to Earth, and in a few weeks will make a decision, despite the events going on now, to stand with Dean Winchester. A decision that - rather sadly, all things considered - in the end makes absolutely no difference to the fact that Sam Winchester releases Lucifer from his cage. Knowing this, Gabriel should leave Castiel to his torture but he’s beginning to suspect that he can’t and it’s annoying the hell out of him. He doesn’t care this much, he doesn’t need to be here, it’s too early. The usual arguments go round and round in Gabriel’s head, then Castiel screams again. 

Castiel’s form sucks in on itself and he makes himself as small and non-threatening as he can and he pleads, he begs, he asks them to tell him what they want so that he can give it to them. The torturers look satisfied at a job well done but oddly uncomfortable when Zachariah urges them on to further torture without giving Castiel the chance to know how he can stop it, encouraging them to do more, even though Castiel is already compliant and probably prepared to give them anything they want from him. And that, ultimately, is what really pisses Gabriel off - that Zachariah is having fun, that it’s so unnecessary. If it was a choice for him before, to leave or to put a halt to the cruel and vindictive assault on his brother, it really isn’t now. 

Gabriel shows himself rather suddenly and everyone in the room who can backs away quickly in surprise and in not a small amount of trepidation. Gabriel, paying little attention to the torturers who are low-grade angels and who wouldn’t dare move against him, watches Zachariah. 

“Gabriel,” Zachariah acknowledges nervously, “I thought you were on Earth.”

“Day trip,” Gabriel returns shortly, approaching Castiel, who’s moaning quietly in the center of the chamber. Gabriel keeps his eyes on Zachariah as he reaches out with his grace to soothe Castiel and the moaning quiets.

“What can we do for you?”

“I came to get Castiel.”

“He’s busy at the moment, as you can see,” Zachariah says, adding smugly, “Raphael’s orders,” as if Gabriel would care a jot what Raphael ordered; Gabriel can still kick Raphael’s butt. Zachariah and Raphael being in cahoots does tell him a lot about the political climate at this point in time though. Raphael is, and has always been, a bully, a pompous ass and a complete daddy’s boy. 

Gabriel draws himself up to his full height and breadth, flashing sparks in threatening green. His human vessel may be small, but his true form is breathtakingly impressive and obviously very angry. He doesn’t need Zachariah’s permission to take Castiel and Zachariah knows it. Even so, Zachariah hesitates before he acquiesces less than graciously, bowing slightly in a way that Gabriel chooses not to take as facetious, because honestly all he wants to do now, having got this far, is grab Castiel and leave before Gabriel does something monumentally stupid that might damage the time line. Like smite Zachariah, which is just really, really tempting.

“Generous of you,” he sneers instead. He wraps his huge form easily around Castiel’s smaller one. “Nice doing business with you as always, Zachariah,” he mutters in the least genuine tone he can muster before flying away to the small piece of Heaven that he used to call his own.

Luckily, it hasn’t changed much. The strange little old man who owns it is in his kitchen baking doughnuts as he always has and always will. Gabriel grabs one with pink icing and sprinkles. He lays the unconscious, feverish Castiel down and looks at him, confused, like he can’t believe he just did that, which actually he can’t. He’s made his entry into the timeline in a more dramatic way than he intended. He looks at his brother and reaches out again to ease Castiel’s pain with his grace. “What the hell am I going to do with you now, bro?” 

It’s not as if Castiel is a fugitive; as an Archangel, Gabriel’s perfectly entitled to do what he did and spring anyone he likes from the Center, but Castiel’s injuries will need time to heal, which normally he’d have gotten as part of the torture package deal. Not that Gabriel regrets what he did, not really. Well okay, maybe a little bit of him does, the bit that likes the easy life, but he should’ve thought it through. Gabriel has absolutely no intention of sticking around Heaven playing nursemaid to anyone. 

"I might have overestimated my capacity to nurture, Cas. Don't take this the wrong way, but there's no way I’m staying here holding your hand and changing dressings,” he stares at Castiel, pointedly ignoring the fact that he is, metaphorically, holding his hand right at this minute. 

Castiel tosses a little and murmurs nonsense. Gabriel’s fairly sure that Castiel doesn’t know where he is or that Gabriel is with him and Gabriel would quite like to get rid of him before he does. Having Castiel, confused and curious, calling on him to explain himself could get annoying but it would mainly be embarrassing and potentially ruinous to his reputation for being inconsiderate.

No-one who Gabriel is still on friendly terms with in Heaven - which admittedly probably isn’t many these days - is going to be happy taking in a Center victim in Castiel’s condition. Gabriel realizes he doesn’t know who Castiel hangs around with these days either and he doubts that, even if he did, he’d trust them. Trust no-one but yourself is pretty much the way Gabriel rolls. 

When it comes down to it, Gabriel realizes, he doesn’t have a Heavenly option. Which only leaves him one place left to go. “Looks like I'm gonna have to dump you on Deano and hope. Sorry, Castiel.”

### Chapter 3

The warehouse is like warehouses everywhere, except the occupants of this one would kind of give away that something weirdly angelic and demonic is going down, even if Gabriel didn’t already know that. There are three demon-possessed humans, and no less than four empty angel vessels, which even he’s got to admit, with mild reverence, is a lot of celestial potential in one room. 

The Winchesters are there, of course, all pouty and innocent of their destiny at this point in their sad little lives, and there are two vessels for Castiel. The one that Castiel’s been using, pretty but a bit on the scrawny side, and a girl that Gabriel can tell is the older vessel’s daughter, also pretty, but about twelve years too young.

Gabriel thinks about putting Castiel in the girl, just for the entertainment value. It would be ridiculously hilarious to watch the Winchesters running around with a twelve year old girl in tow, but then he thinks about the timeline changes that would ensue and, sighing regretfully, he gives himself a mental pat on the back for showing some actual responsibility here. 

One of the demons interrupts his thoughts when it speaks, calm and arrogant. “I was actually bummed to get this detail, picking up an empty vessel. Sort of like a milk run. Now look who landed in my lap.” 

“Yeah, well, you got us, okay? Let these people go.” There goes Sam, over-confident and full of his own importance. Gabriel snorts and curls a lip. 

The demon sneers. “Oh, Sam. It's easy to act chivalrous when your Wonder Girl powers aren't working, huh? Now for the punch line.”

Gabriel’s getting bored. He’s got much more fun things to do and the attention span of a teenager. Gathering the barely-conscious Castiel to him, he approaches Castiel’s vessel and quickly, with a short incantation, he crams Castiel back in. He notices the changes that show the possession has taken, making an effort to dim the lightshow right down so that it’s not visible to anyone watching, and he sees the shock that runs through Castiel that wakes him enough to make him momentarily alert. Then there’s a brief second when Gabriel thinks Castiel is just going to crumple right then and there, just as the demon says, “everybody dies,” and it holds up a gun and shoots Castiel in the gut. Which, okay, not planned.

Castiel falls to his knees while Gabriel looks on in a kind of stunned surprise and roots for his little bro to heal the body he’s in, but nothing happens. 

The demon who shot Castiel turns to one of the demons holding Sam Winchester. “Waste Little Orphan Annie.” 

Gabriel might be willing to admit that perhaps he hadn’t done the proper research before picking this time and place to return Castiel. He might be willing to admit that he’d made some assumptions, because it’s always quicker and easier to work off your assumptions rather than facts. He’s not going to admit he was wrong, but it’s possible a personal appearance might be needed. He mentally adds a note in his ‘timeline changes I have made’ journal.

“Boys. Demons. Hi.” Gabriel gives a theatrical bow as he appears between the two groups, his right fingertips almost brushing the concrete floor as he waves his arm across and under him with a flourish. 

“You!” Sam snarls, and looks as if he’s forgotten everything else going on around him in the clear glare of hatred he focuses on Gabriel’s face.

“None other,” declares Gabriel, dredging up a cheeky grin, from where he’s not sure. His eyes flick briefly in a worried sideways glance at Castiel - now on his back on the concrete, half-heartedly clutching at his stomach - before turning his attention back to the small group of Winchesters and Demons.

“What the fuck?” Dean spits, thrusting his head forward on his neck aggressively. 

“Deano, Deano. Such eloquence as usual.” The demons look terrified and are backing off. Gabriel knows they can see him for what he really is, but that doesn’t matter. Sam and Dean can’t.

Using the distraction of Gabriel’s appearance, Sam and Dean turn on the demons who were recently holding them. 

“Whoa, boys, no time for small talk?” says Gabriel, taking a half step back out of the way.

Sam snatches the demon-killing knife from one while her focus is fully on Gabriel. Dean knocks down the other and Gabriel does the honors with a short, proprietary exorcism that has Dean looking at him suspiciously until Sam gets both Dean’s and Gabriel’s full attention. 

Gabriel watches in fascination as Sam wrestles the demon to the ground, cuts its neck and starts drinking its blood. He knew, of course, that this was Sam’s thing. Everyone knows that this is Sam’s thing. He just never expected to see it for himself. It’s disgusting. He pulls a face and screws up his nose, his forehead creasing into furrowed lines. 

“Yuuh, Sam, gross!”

Sam turns to look at them and doesn’t even try to look as embarrassed as he should. He briefly turns back to kill the demon under him with the knife before turning again, holding out his hand and exorcising the demon who shot Castiel right out of its host. That, thinks Gabriel, is actually pretty impressive, as he watches the black smoke burn its way back through to Hell. For a human, anyway.

“Way to go, Sammy,” he says under his breath. Dean catches it and glares at him. Gabriel raises an eyebrow in a clear ‘what?’

Dean and Gabriel both turn away at the same time from one disturbing scene to the other. Castiel lies against a pillar, bleeding out, blood in his mouth, pain in every line of his face. Although his eyes are open, they’re not focused on anything further than a few inches away from his face. The girl is crouched down next to him and crying. 

Dean turns to Gabriel, getting right up into his personal space. Something that bothers Gabriel not a jot. “That Cas?”

“Dean, I’m very impressed. Not even his daughter can tell,” Gabriel says, standing his ground, which means he’s mostly having a conversation with Dean’s chin.

“Why are you here, asshole?”

“Hey, hey. I brought your angel back, didn’t I?”

“Why? What’s the catch? How does a trickster even make that happen?” Sam asks, joining his brother to stand close by his left shoulder and Gabriel sees Dean battle not to flinch away.

He grins a smile that stops at his mouth. “I’m wounded, Sammy. There’s no catch. Okay, maybe a teensy one.”

“Well?” Dean spits out when Gabriel stops talking, “and why the fuck isn’t he healing? What’d you do to him, douche-bag?”

“I didn’t do anything to him, Dean. Let’s just say I have an interest and leave it like that. You should be more gracious to tricksters bearing gifts.”

Castiel picks that moment to let out a long, low groan and the girl kneeling beside him starts crying harder and ignoring her mother’s attempts to pull her away. Gabriel had forgotten he was going to need to do something about that gunshot wound. See, this here is why he’s no good at the nurturing thing; his patients would die while he got distracted doing something else. Gabriel huffs and shoulders his way in front of Dean before Dean can make it to Castiel. Can tricksters heal? Gabriel’s not actually sure; he only really paid attention to the fun and candies bit of the seminar. Oh well, they can now. 

Castiel’s well out of it by now, if he was ever really there. Gabriel crouches down and fidgets so his back is always to Dean, blocking him. It’s possible he might be doing it deliberately just for fun. The damn girl is still yowling and right in his ear now so he shoos her away. Laying a hand over Castiel’s abdomen, he knits the tissue and muscle and blood vessels back together. Castiel stops moaning but stays slumped where he is. Gabriel stands up and turns to meet yet another onslaught from Dean.

“What’re you doing to him?” Dean growls, right in his face.

“I fixed him, you idiot. Well, as much as I can.” Gabriel steps forward and Dean takes a step back to compensate and Gabriel grins in satisfaction. Dean returns a scowl. “The real angel him is a bit worse for wear, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with chicken soup or whatever it is you humans do.” 

Dean crouches down by Castiel, fingers feeling for a pulse in his neck. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Gabriel once. He can’t really blame him, Gabriel supposes. Sam opens his mouth to say something but Gabriel doesn’t hang around to hear it. He snaps his fingers and leaves, his duty of care done.

### Chapter 4

Even though the instruction to Castiel from Heaven is expected, Gabriel tenses when he tunes in to it a week after he brought Castiel back to Earth with him. ‘Let Sam Winchester out of Bobby Singer’s panic room’. ‘Let him fulfill his destiny’. Gabriel holds his breath while he waits for Castiel’s acknowledgement, which should be immediate. It’s when his lungs start to ache and he opens his mouth wide to gasp in much-needed air that he realizes the acknowledgement isn’t going to come. He curses in frustration and splats the palm of his hand onto the surface of the water. Shit, he knew this would happen. Okay, he didn’t, but he thought it might and crossing all his fingers and toes and wing tips obviously hasn’t helped. 

There’s no physical excuse for Castiel’s lack of response. Gabriel’s occasional secret visits to Singer Salvage to check up on things have shown that everything seemed to be going as well as could be expected. 

Sam is locked in the panic room, sweaty and whining while he detoxes from his demon-blood addiction, and being mainly tended to by a grumpy older man who has a bottle of whiskey perpetually in his hand, while only receiving occasional visits from his woe-is-me-it’s-all-my-fault brother. 

Said woe-is-me-it’s-all-my-fault brother has gone from being initially annoyed at the presence of his angelic invalid to being openly concerned and attentive in the face of Castiel’s nervousness and confusion which is increasing in direct relation to his physical recovery.

Gabriel knows for a fact that Castiel has pretty much physically recovered from his little holiday in Heaven’s less than loving embrace, even if Gabriel still winces when he sees the scars that only he can see. So the only reason left for Castiel’s lack of acknowledgement of the order is, unfortunately, yet more disobedience. 

Gabriel kisses each of the two women and two men sharing the hot tub with him before clicking his fingers so that he’s alone. Climbing out into the warm air, he shakes himself like a dog and gets rid of the excess water before padding, naked and wet but no longer dripping, into the tiled lobby of the house.

“Alphonse,” he yells loudly, though he doesn’t have to. Alphonse always hears him.

“Sir,” the butler says, appearing to one side with a glass of sweet, pink Champagne and a bowl of luxury chocolates. 

“Vodka lollipops, Alphonse.”

“Yes, Mr. Gabriel, Sir, at once.” Alphonse disappears.

Gabriel takes the glass of wine and a handful of chocolates back to the side of the hot tub, thoughtfully sipping and sucking as he lowers himself into the silk hammock and tunes in to the cacophony that is the equivalent of angel tumblr. Once he’s weeded out the prayers, the friendly but ultimately pointless banter and the gossip, he’s tuned in to the wavelength he’s most interested in, one that very few angels have access to.

Alphonse briefly appears with a bowl of vodka lollipops, places them on the little wooden table beside the hammock with a low bow and leaves again. Gabriel pays him no heed but does lean across to take one of the lollipops and puts it in his champagne glass where it fizzes happily. Gabriel takes small sips while he listens.

‘…not at this time, Raphael.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Still with the Winchesters.’

‘I was under the impression that the earlier disobedience was resolved.’

‘It was interrupted.’

‘Interrupted? By whom?’

‘Gabriel, Sir.’ 

There’s a telling pause in the conversation and Gabriel doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Anonymity just flew the coop, which was fairly inevitable, but he does have a mental image of Raphael all indignant, angry confusion. Laughing wins, the champagne goes down the wrong way and gets snorted out through his nose. He splutters joyfully and wipes the dribbles away on the back of his hand.

‘Castiel can have twelve more hours.’

‘And then?’

‘What do you think, Zachariah? Then you drag him back here by the stumps of his wings and hang him upside down from the gates of Heaven. And,’ he adds, menacingly, ‘the next time you catch even a whiff of Gabriel, you tell me. I don’t want to find out about it a week later. Do you understand me, Zachariah?’

‘Yes, Raphael, Sir. Absolutely, I just…’

‘Why are you still here, Zachariah?’

Gabriel sighs. Much as he likes listening to Zachariah getting his come-uppance, the main act is over. He downs the rest of his drink, puts down the glass and clicks his fingers. Dry and clothed, he climbs from the hammock and flies to Bobby Singer’s.

### Chapter 5

Gabriel settles on the couch at the opposite end from Dean and crosses his legs. Lacing his fingers together across his lap, he shuffles to get comfortable and grimaces as one of the cheap springs in the old couch digs into his butt. When the cushion gives a little under Gabriel’s weight, Dean frowns and glances his way before seeming to shake it off as nothing and returns his focus back to the room and the person in it who he can actually see. Gabriel grins and a mango and honey milkshake appears in his left hand, complete with a straw shaped like a penis. He takes a long slurp.

It’s late and it’s dark outside with no moon, and no light at all is getting through the thin, old curtains in Bobby’s den. Deep shadows are being cast by the few low-wattage lamps placed in the room. It adds weight to the heavy, brooding atmosphere and Gabriel makes a mental note that they’re going to have more fun when he’s part of the team.

“Cas?” Dean leans forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his knees as he peers at Castiel in concern.

Castiel is sitting in a hard wooden chair by a crammed bookcase, staring at the spot where Gabriel is sitting, head tilted on one side with a deeply puzzled expression. Gabriel knows Castiel can’t see him but he’s not surprised that he can feel him. Gabriel puts a little more power into the masking and Castiel blinks and turns his head back to Dean, still wearing the puzzled expression.

“Something wrong, Cas?”

“It’s nothing,” says Cas, sounding less than certain and glancing at the corner of the couch suspiciously.

“So, Cas, what now?” Bobby asks. Gabriel looks towards the sound. He hadn’t noticed the older hunter in the kitchen. Bobby walks through to join the others, a beer bottle in each hand and he hands one to Dean before taking position, leaning against the doorframe between the rooms.

“We stay here. We protect Sam. We protect Dean. I’ll put up angel wards and we’ll strengthen the demon ones. I haven’t acknowledged the order. They’ll send someone soon to find out why.”

“What about the trickster? We still don’t know what his game was,” says Dean.

“I don’t know this trickster, as I’ve already told you, Dean,” Castiel responds tiredly, as if he’s said the same thing many times before. “I don’t know why he was in the warehouse, how or why he took me from Heaven. I don’t know why Heaven let him. The angel wards won’t stop him if he returns. I don’t know how to stop a trickster. I’ve had no previous experience with them personally and I can’t exactly ask my brothers right now.”

“Asshole’s got to have an ulterior motive,” Dean says, leaning back in the couch. “Never gonna do anything out of the goodness of his heart.”

“I don’t know what it might be,” says Castiel. “I’m truly at a loss.”

Gabriel adjusts his position on the sofa, scowling at the errant spring and Castiel looks across sharply.

“Cas?” Dean asks.

“I just thought…” Castiel shakes his head. “Never mind.” Dean doesn’t say anything but he’s watching Castiel closely as Castiel continues to look unsure.

“Boys, if there’s nothing we can do, why’re we worrying about it?” Bobby asks. “We’ve got the bloodied stakes in every room in the house, so if the Bastard turns up, we’ll kill him.”

Dean looks at Bobby disbelievingly. “Just like that, huh?”

“You got a better idea, boy?”

Dean’s saved from answering by the sound of yelling from downstairs and it obviously makes him unhappy as he lowers his eyes and dips his head, his face creasing up with anxiety.

Bobby looks at him in some sympathy. “I’ll go,” and, easing himself off the doorframe, he heads towards the staircase. 

After the heavy echo of Bobby’s boots on the stairs has gone, Dean stands up and crosses quickly to Castiel, crouching in front of him on one knee and placing his hand over the back of Castiel’s, where it’s gripping tightly onto the wooden arm of the chair. Castiel looks at their hands, then rotates his so they are holding each other’s, palm to palm. 

An amused but fond smile slowly builds on Gabriel’s face until it’s a full-blown grin. This is awesome! He’s pleased for his brother, he really is. Even if it is Dean Winchester. He waves his hand and draws a little heart in the air, lighting up the dust particles so that they sparkle, does a couple of little jigs in his seat, and sing-songs, “Dean loves Cas, Dean loves Cas.”

He almost misses Dean’s whispered question. “What’s going on, Cas? Something’s up.”

“I don’t believe we’re alone.”

“Meaning?”

“There’s a presence here. In the house. In the room.”

“Like a ghost?”

Castiel shakes his head. 

“Trickster?”

“No. Something else. Something more powerful. I just wish I was back to my full strength. This is frustrating.”

“Not your fault, man. Is it gonna hurt us?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t feel like it.” Castiel huffs in annoyance. “I don’t know, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“Can we do anything?”

Castiel shakes his head again. “Not with something so vague.”

“So what Bobby said then,” Dean says, letting go of Castiel’s hand and standing up.

Castiel looks at him in confusion.

“If there’s nothing we can do, why’re we worrying about it?”

Castiel nods but glances around nervously anyway. He stands up out of the chair. “I’ll get started on the angel wards. It will take some time.”

“You do that, and remember, keep the bloodletting to a minimum; you’re still sick,” says Dean, waving an admonishing finger at Castiel. He adds reluctantly, “I guess I’ll check how Bobby’s doing with Sam.”

When the room empties, Dean disappearing down the stairs to the panic room at a pace that suggests he’d rather be doing anything else, and Castiel flitting onto the roof of the house to work on the angel protection, Gabriel settles down to wait.

Soon after, he senses Castiel has angelic company, but he ignores it. It’ll be Zachariah giving Castiel his twelve-hour ultimatum and Gabriel already knows how it’s going to go. Castiel isn’t going to change his mind however long they give him. 

Half an hour later, Bobby and Dean come back up from the panic room together, not talking. Dean grabs a beer from the fridge and leaves the house, clattering the screen door behind him. Gabriel can hear him pacing on the porch. Bobby reaches into one of the top cupboards and pulls out the bottle and a glass, then pours a whisky, drinking it quickly before pouring himself a second that he works through more slowly.

Gabriel waits and eats a chocolate bar.

After ten minutes, Bobby sighs, pours his fourth glass of whisky, picks it up and climbs the stairs to the first floor. Five minutes later Dean comes in for another beer, taking it back outside again and this time settling in the porch chair; Gabriel hears the old wood creak. Castiel has reached the fourth and final wall of the house. Gabriel’s muscles ache under the strength of the magic. God knows what Castiel must be feeling in his weakened state. 

Snapping his fingers, Gabriel flits to one of the sigils that Castiel has painted on the back outside wall. He rubs a break into the inner circle of the sigil. He doesn’t want to be trapped in the house when Castiel has finished. He snaps back to the living area.

Fifteen minutes later, Castiel walks through the house. Gabriel leaves to wait outside, where hopefully Castiel can’t sense him. He sees Castiel’s shadowed head in the window behind the thin curtain turning and looking around him before disappearing and reappearing two seconds later in the doorway between the house and the porch.

“I’m done, Dean.” He sounds incredibly weary.

Dean stands up out of the chair and stretches the kinks out of his muscles and his bones. “Yeah, me too. What about our visitor?”

“Gone as far as I can tell. If it was ever really there at all.”

“You doubting yourself now?”

“I don’t know. It’s been an unusual week.”

“Sammy?”

“Quiet.”

“You gonna sleep?”

“No, but I’ll rest with you a while.”

“Good enough.” Dean opens the screen door and, putting his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, he turns him around, encouraging him back into the house. The heavy front door shuts quietly behind them.

Gabriel gives them fifteen minutes to settle, then he snaps his fingers. 

The outside of the panic room is covered in demon wards but no angel wards. It’s an easy job to slide the bolt and open the door a crack. He snaps his fingers and the cuff on Sam’s left arm snaps open, then his left ankle followed by the others. Gabriel opens the door and stands to one side, hiding in the shadows.

“Hello?” Sam’s voice calls from the room.

Sam slips out of the door. “Someone here?” 

Gabriel slips further into the shadows as Sam hurries quietly out of the basement. Gabriel closes and locks the panic room door and does something he rarely does anymore. He prays to his silent father. From outside the house, he fixes the sigil he’d broken earlier, reinstating and completing the protection, and leaves. With any luck, Raphael and Zachariah will think Castiel let Sam out and he’ll be safe for now. At least until Lucifer has risen. When that happens, Gabriel knows, all bets are off.

### Chapter 6

Things are starting to get complicated. When Gabriel returns from letting Sam out, he’s barely had time to put his feet up before all hell breaks loose. Well, not literally. Not yet. 

Alphonse brings him a jug of iced margarita; the one he really likes that’s made with Cointreau, and the special candies from that little shop in Minnesota. The brunette with the big, but not too big, bust whose name he can never remember is leaning over him while she massages his bare shoulders and chest, her nipples brushing his skin tantalizingly with every stroke she makes, backward and forward. The revelation about Dean and Castiel has given Gabriel a fantasy he can’t quite shake. The man currently massaging his right foot has green eyes, short, dark-blonde hair, and is lean but with some well-defined muscle and the man massaging his left foot has dark blue eyes, nearly black hair and a slim, toned, pleasing shape. 

Gabriel is content for all of fifteen minutes. 

The noise from Heaven kicks in first. Zachariah can’t believe that Castiel actually let Sam out. He was sure he wouldn’t, but he can’t find anything that proves otherwise. Raphael, less astute about free will and disobedience, doesn’t have the same concern. Raphael can’t understand Castiel’s earlier failure to acknowledge and follow the order and so finds Castiel’s later willingness to obey simply how it should be. Zachariah doesn’t argue with Raphael but Gabriel can tell he’s far from convinced. 

Gabriel shifts on the pool lounger, encouraging the actions of his companions that are keeping him sane. The two men move up to his calves, pouring warm oil onto his skin before digging their fingers into his muscles, kneading deep and slow. He sighs blissfully as he keeps listening to the events unfolding. Preparations are being made in Heaven for Lucifer’s rising. There are a lot of garrison movements and placements and a small contingent has been sent to inform Michael that it’s nearly time. It’s been a long time since Gabriel saw his brother, Michael. Almost as long ago as when he last saw Lucifer, not counting his recent disconcerting short hop to the Elysian Fields Hotel.

Michael had taken Lucifer’s fall very hard. His favored and much-loved brother. Michael had tried to hold it together but in the end had hidden himself away from most of Heaven’s responsibilities. Michael knew he had a part to play and Gabriel has no doubt that he’ll play it, loyal son that he is, but Michael will do it with sadness and regret. 

Gabriel doesn’t pity him though. If Michael had found some balls earlier they’d have been without eons of family bickering and they might not be where they are now, with Gabriel having to be involved at all, let alone side with a bunch of hapless humans and a half-fallen angel in order to ensure his survival. Nope, no sympathy at all. 

Frustrated, he waves a hand and encourages the busty brunette lower and the two men higher. Nothing like a good orgasm to take away minor irritations like the Apocalypse.

It isn’t too long before Gabriel hears the news relayed to Zachariah that since Castiel’s twelve hours grace ended, they haven’t been able to reach Castiel and they can’t retrieve Dean Winchester, Michael’s vessel, because their location is protected with wards. Zachariah is predictably furious. This comes almost simultaneously with the consternation he detects from Castiel, which must mean he’s discovered Sam has gone. And for some reason that he’s not going to analyze, the jab of extreme emotion he senses from Castiel is enough to bring him to the orgasm he’s been craving, surprising not only himself but the two men who between them have his cock and his balls in their mouths and the woman with her tongue teasing his nipple. “Sorry,” he mutters through a heavy gasp, though he isn’t really.

### Chapter 7

Gabriel would have been more than happy to lie back and listen to the whole thing unfold; Sam killing Lilith, Lucifer rising, Heaven happy – ish, Castiel getting cut off, which okay that stinks but it has happened anyway. Gabriel is going to be fairly comfortable in the knowledge that all this will be happening with Castiel and Dean safely protected and out of the way behind Castiel’s meticulous angel wards. So when the next lot of frantic transmissions comes through from Heaven about how they’ve now completely lost track of Dean Winchester and Castiel is at the prophet’s home, Gabriel spills his drink and curses ten ways to Sunday. Sure, God had resurrected Castiel before, probably, in the original timeline. It doesn’t mean he’s going to do it this time around. You can hardly live your life on the assumption of resurrection.

Gabriel snaps his fingers.

“Do you have some sort of death wish?” he demands of Castiel as the house shakes and vibrates around them. “I didn’t rescue your sorry ass just to see Raphael finish the job anyway.”

“Gabriel,” said Castiel. If he’s surprised to see his brother he doesn’t show it.

“Gabriel?” the prophet says nervously and looks as if he’s going to pee himself. “As in the Archangel, Gabriel?”

“Yes,” Castiel says. “Gabriel, what are you doing here?”

“Getting you out.”

“I have to stay.”

“You really don’t, Castiel. Why can’t they find Dean?”

Castiel looks at him suspiciously. “I’ve branded his ribs to hide him from angels. You won’t find him.”

“I don’t want to find him, you dork, but our brothers are pretty mad. Is he at the convent?” The house gives a renewed shudder, the fridge door flies off its hinges and all the cupboards spring open, spilling their contents. The prophet sits down on the couch and hides his head under a cushion. 

Gabriel says urgently, “Never mind. We have to leave, now.”

“No.”

“Cas, I’m on your side. Seriously you aren’t Raphael’s favorite person right now, this doesn’t end well.”

Cas falters. “Chuck…”

“Chuck will be fine. They’re hardly going to do anything to him are they? It’s you I’m worried about.”

The bright lights and iridescent flickering of Raphael materializing without a vessel start to fill the room and the house and half the street. 

“Fuck this,” says Gabriel and snaps his fingers. 

When they land in Gabriel’s games room, Castiel turns on Gabriel immediately. “I must help Dean. They can’t be allowed to get him.”

“They won’t. Stay here.” Gabriel thinks briefly that he may have to tie Castiel down with some magic to make him stay, but the need is taken away when Castiel suddenly stumbles and falls.

“Castiel?”

Castiel looks up in horror from the floor. “I’ve been cut off.”

“You must’ve expected that would happen. Why’re you surprised?”

“I expected to die.”

“Seriously? You really did have a death wish. How’s Deano going to feel about you dying, then?”

“He expected to die too.” Castiel looks horrified. “Gabriel, he can’t die.”

“Didn’t happen last time, not going to happen this time, bro. Stay here like a good boy.”

Gabriel makes it to the convent in time to get in, grab the boys and get out again before Lucifer makes it all the way out of his cage. Dean and Sam don’t even have time to register he’s there. He’s certainly not hanging around for a conversation. 

He leaves them back at Bobby’s, outside in the yard because he can’t get through Castiel’s wards. He gets a wary, begrudging, “thanks, I think,” from Dean. Not surprisingly, having just raised Lucifer, they’re looking a little shell-shocked. Sam keeps apologizing.

“Don’t worry about it, Sammy,” Gabriel says. Unsurprisingly, he’s less shocked than they are, like not at all. “It was going to happen at some point, anyway. You just made it real easy. Be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, boys.”

Gabriel goes back to Castiel.

“Is Dean alright?” says Castiel, turning to Gabriel as soon as he appears. He’s back on his feet, shaken but otherwise fine.

“Dean’s okay, so is Sam. Come on.” Gabriel snaps his fingers. He’s starting to feel like a taxi service.

They reappear at Bobby’s where Sam and Dean haven’t moved much and Bobby’s standing on his porch like a statue and looking alarmed at all the traffic in and out of his home.

“Cas. Thank, God.” Dean says, moving right up next to Castiel but not touching, though it’s obvious to Gabriel that he’s itching to. Gabriel snorts back a laugh.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Dean asks, looking from Gabriel to Castiel and back again.

“Dean, Sam, Bobby,” says Castiel. “Meet my brother, Gabriel.”

“As in the Archangel, Gabriel?” says Sam in disbelief.

“Why does everyone ask it like that?” says Gabriel, putting on a pretend pout.

### Chapter 8 

Castiel still goes searching for their Father. Gabriel tries to convince him it‘s a waste of time, that if God wants to be found he’d make it easy, and if he doesn’t want to be found, there’s no way Castiel is going to find him. But Castiel, sweet and faithful and needing to believe that he rebelled for something, something more tangible and less transient than his love for Dean, has gone anyway. 

Gabriel’s supposed to be helping them find a weapon that will kill Lucifer, but seeing as he knows there is no such weapon, he’s taking it easy instead. In fact, Dean and Castiel mark II are currently helping out with that. He lifts his head up and smiles benevolently down the length of the bed and two pairs of adoring eyes, one pair green, the other blue, stare back at him.

His contented feeling doesn’t last, unfortunately. A fairly insistent summons from Castiel is calling to him. Insistent though it is, it doesn’t actually sound life-threatening, so he takes five minutes to let the men finish what they’re doing, the gravelly tone of Castiel’s prayer increasing Gabriel’s arousal. He’s not managed to get the voice quite right yet with Castiel mark II and he’s really tried. 

When he arrives at the roadside where Castiel is waiting, Castiel looks at him in vague disgust as if he knows what he’s been doing. Which, in truth, he’s pretty much always doing that so maybe Castiel is just assuming. Rightly. In any case, the mark IIs are Gabriel’s little secret and these days Castiel can hardly sit on his high horse and criticize him for indulging in sex so Gabriel feels justified in reacting as if he’s been accused of something he’s innocent of. Even if he’s not.

“Found Dad yet, lover boy?” he says, sucking on a lollipop.

Castiel gives him a dirty look. “You would know if I had. How’s Sam?”

“I saw him a couple of days ago, working at a bar. He’s not exactly happy, but he’s surviving.”

Castiel nods. When Sam took off to find himself or whatever it is he’s doing, it was easier for Gabriel to keep an eye on him. Gabriel had branded Sam’s ribs the same way Castiel had branded Dean’s but Gabriel had been able to leave a little extra in there so that Gabriel could find him. It irritates the hell out of Castiel that he hadn’t been able to do that with Dean given his weakened state at the time. Gabriel rubs it in occasionally when he’s feeling mean.

“I need a favor.”

“Pretty much anything, Cas, you know that,” Gabriel says with sincerity that seems to momentarily confuse Castiel. “And by the way, why are we standing beside a highway in the dark?” Gabriel adds, looking around.

“I was letting Dean rest.”

“What, you guys don’t ‘rest’ together?” Gabriel asks, only just succeeding in suppressing a snigger.

Castiel gives him another dirty look. Or maybe it’s the same one, ramped up. Gabriel’s not sure. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We don’t live in each other’s pockets.”

Gabriel really does snigger this time. “Hey, look at you with the slang and everything. Where’d you learn that expression from, bro?”

Castiel looked embarrassed. “I learned it from the television. It’s a good source of human information.”

“I wouldn’t take it too literally if I were you, Cas. So, what can I do for you if you’re not after relationship counseling?”

“Zachariah has taken Dean into the future and I can’t follow. Without Heaven’s power to call on, I’d get lost; there are too many paths.”

“You want me to go? To bring him back or just to look after him?”

“I don’t really know,” says Castiel. He looks down at his feet. “Zachariah won’t hurt him; it will defeat the point. It’s just… something feels wrong. Something about time feels wrong.” Castiel looks up and stares at Gabriel and Gabriel tries really hard not to think about Castiel mark II. That lost expression is scarily similar. “This is ridiculous, I know, but I feel as if this time, the one we’re in, isn’t as established as it should be, isn’t as strong as it should be. What if Dean’s in a different timeline? What if he comes back to a different timeline? What if he doesn’t come back here?”

Gabriel’s more than a little spooked that Castiel has picked up the temporal change, but then Cas has always been pretty good at time. He learned from Zachariah, who’s one of the best. Gabriel’s masked his own temporal shadow but there’s not a lot he can do about the whole world. The fact that he hasn’t, in the present, yet established this timeline as the one and only true timeline is worrying. That it could still revert to the other original timeline means he needs to get less lazy and more pro-active.

“Sure, I’ll go.”

Castiel’s eyes open even wider and he looks so adorably relieved that Gabriel wants to hug him, though he doesn’t. “You will?”

“Sure. I’ll bring him back safe for you, Cas.”

“Not just for me. But… thank you, Gabriel.”

“Don’t worry, bro. See you soon.” He snaps his fingers.

Gabriel follows the trail Zachariah left and finds himself in a future devastated by the apocalypse and the Croatoan virus. If this is the future that ends up real, it’s going to seriously cramp his style. Dean’s nowhere to be seen. He’s got a head start on Gabriel and Gabriel can’t detect him any better here than he can in his own time so he’s going to need to work out where Dean would go and he’s going to have to do it pretty quickly. This isn’t a human-friendly world.

It turns out it’s not angel-friendly either. In his head it’s weirdly silent and quiet. He has to listen hard to detect his siblings and when he does find them, they’re a long way away, and not a single conversation is about Earth. They’ve thrown it away and discarded it like a dysfunctional washing machine. They’ve left it to Lucifer. Gabriel feels surprisingly bitter and angry. The angels put all their hopes into Dean. All their hopes into him saying ‘yes’ to Michael. How naively stupid they were. All it took was one curious low-pay-grade angel and it’s gone. Everything. Not that what Castiel did was wrong. Not that it matters in the larger scheme of things, to Heaven. There are other worlds, other civilizations, other species. But it rankles. It gets under Gabriel’s skin that they could so easily discard one of his Father’s proudest achievements. And he suddenly gets it. He suddenly gets why Castiel rebelled. 

“Don’t worry, Cas,” he whispers to himself. “I’ve got your back.”

Gabriel doesn’t have much power of Heaven to call on here, but he does have his fully-charged Archangel battery. But even with that, he can’t find anyone he knows, even Castiel. He hopes like hell that doesn’t mean Cas is dead. He hopes, if he is, that Dean from his time doesn’t find out. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he does but the way Dean is with Cas back in the real world, it won’t be pretty.

He flies to Bobby Singer’s scrap yard. The place is a mess and has obviously been empty for some time. There’s an abandoned wheelchair with bullet holes and old, old blood dried on the back. Gabriel doesn’t know of anyone that Bobby knows who uses a wheelchair so it doesn’t help. He spends a long time looking and searching to find something useful, something that will tell him where to go next, where the Dean of this time might be, because that’s where the Dean of his time will go.

He’s getting desperate, and all his usual good humored and don’t care approach to existence had abandoned him around the time he’d got to Bobby’s, so he’s both nervous and relieved when he hears the sound of an approaching car engine. 

The car squeals to a halt with a cloud of dust and his Dean, Dean from his time, climbs out. Gabriel’s pleased beyond measure and is about to leap out and greet him and get them both the hell out of there, when an overwhelming need to see what Zachariah wanted Dean to see drives him back into a shadowed corner. That and a desire to find out what happened to Dean and Castiel.

Dean walks into the house and is obviously upset but his hunter instincts are in play and he’s doing what Gabriel did but with more inside knowledge. Dean works his way around the house, investigating various secret stashes that Gabriel hadn’t even suspected the existence of. Finally Dean reaches into one and pulls out a photo that makes him pause. Gabriel can’t see the photo but Dean pockets it and heads out of the house. Gabriel follows.

Dean drives for a couple of hours, avoiding towns and cities and anything that looks like civilization, because it almost certainly isn’t civilized. Gabriel rides, invisible, in the passenger seat of the car casting out tendrils of grace to seek out people he knows, anything or anyone that seems familiar. 

He finds traces of Lucifer and he’s strong, much stronger than he is in their present. It can only mean that Sam had said ‘yes’. Only Sam could make Lucifer this strong. Gabriel shudders unhappily and keeps seeking for the others.

When Dean pulls the car up and stops, the place they’ve come to doesn’t look like much at all, except for the kick-ass fence and a sign that says ‘Camp Chiquita’. From here there are no buildings visible or signs of life, though Gabriel can tell there are people inside the perimeter. That’s when he finds Castiel and his relief is mixed with sadness. Gabriel had been looking for Castiel’s grace and there’s none. What he detects now is human - undoubtedly Cas, but no longer an angel. Presumably Cas had given up his grace when the other angels left so that he and Dean could stay together. Noble but, in Gabriel’s opinion, ultimately stupid.

Gabriel should really stay and keep an eye on Dean but he’s drawn to find Castiel, so he leaves Dean climbing the fence and he flies to the inside of a small two-room log cabin where he appears and makes Cas jump and spill his line of coke.

“Shit!”

“Cas, you swore!”

Cas ignores the comment in favor of curiosity. “Gabriel? How are you here? You’re dead.” 

“Jeez, Cas, break it to a guy gently why don’t you.”

Cas leans in closer and sniffs at Gabriel. “You’re not from here. Not from now. When are you from?”

“2009. You do remember 2009 don’t you, Castiel?” Gabriel sneers. He finds the idea of a drugged-up Castiel surprisingly distasteful.

“It’s just Cas, now. Has been for a long time. So are you going to tell me why you’re here?” he glances sideways at where the coke line was and adds sadly. “That was the last of my coke.”

“You don’t need it, Cas.”

Cas gives a pathetic, self-loathing grimace. “Yeah, I do.”

Gabriel bites his lip to hold back his angry retort. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Life.”

“Yeah? That’s a crappy excuse. Never thought I’d say this but the early model you – definitely better.”

“You came from the past to insult me? Lucky I stopped giving a damn.”

“I came from the past because Dean’s here.”

“Well, of course Dean’s here,” Cas says, looking confused but not looking as if he really cares.

“Not your Dean, my Dean from 2009. Though it’s good to hear Dean’s still around.”

“Oh, he’s still around. Not quite the Dean you’re used to though, I shouldn’t think.” Cas gives a bitter little laugh.

“Shit, I don’t even know why we’re still here,” Gabriel says, staring at this wasted future version of Castiel and regretting his need to stay and see how things had worked out. This isn’t what he’d wanted to see. “I’m just going to find my Dean and go. It was…” he waves a hand non-committally, “it was interesting, bro.”

“Sure, likewise,” says Cas, with little interest. 

Gabriel turns and leaves Cas’ cabin just as a couple of giggling girls in their early twenties walk in. He knows what they’re there for; he can smell the pheromones on them. He’s all for orgies but with Cas? It’s just wrong. He wonders how Dean of this time feels about it. Maybe Dean joins in. 

Nope, not going down that route.

After some hunting around, he finds his Dean tied up in another cabin and figures it’s about time he let him know he’s here. Dean must be feeling as shitty and shell-shocked as Gabriel is right now. If Gabriel’s honest with himself, which he rarely is if he can help it, he needs a feeling of solidarity and connection back to the real world of 2009 and at the moment, that’s Dean.

“Gabriel. Thank fuck,” Dean says. “It is you, isn’t it?” he adds, peering closely.

“Yep, the one and only. Come on, we’re getting out of here.” Gabriel snaps his fingers and the handcuffs around Dean’s wrist fall open. 

“Thank God. I met Future me,” says Dean standing up and rubbing his wrist gingerly. “I’m an asshole.”

Gabriel stares at him, poker-faced. Which takes a lot of control.

Dean looks over at him and gives a light laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Funny. Is Cas here?”

“Yes.” Gabriel should’ve lied but his mouth engaged before he put his brain into gear. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see him,” he says when he sees the look of hope and pleasure on Dean’s face. “There’s no point, he’s not your Cas, he’s the other Dean’s,” he says desperately. 

He can see Dean thinking about it, thinking about leaving it, but then Dean says, “It’d be really good to see him, you know? Just for a minute. I can tell my Cas what he’s gonna be like when he grows up.” Dean grins.

“I’m not sure you want to know. I’m not sure he’s going to want to know,” Gabriel mutters.

“Which means what exactly?” says Dean, worried now. 

Gabriel could just mojo them out and back to their own time, of course, but now Dean’s going to think all sorts of horrible things about what’s happened to Cas and will undoubtedly just go on and on about it when they get back. He sighs and beckons Dean. “Come on then.”

When they get back to Cas’ cabin there’s a small bunch of young women sitting in a circle on the floor with Cas while Cas sprouts some hippy mumbo jumbo obviously designed to get them into bed, though Gabriel’s fairly sure from the way they’re all looking sappy-eyed at him that Cas could easily dispense with the guru stuff.

Dean, standing next to Gabriel, looks incredibly uncomfortable and awkward. When Cas notices them and dismisses the girls to clean up for ‘the orgy’, Gabriel thinks Dean’s going to have an aneurism. 

When it’s just the three of them left in the room, Cas walks up to Dean. “You’re from 2009 too?”

“Yeah,” Dean splutters, barely getting the word out. “What are you, a hippy?”

“You,” Cas points at Dean, “the real you, the now you, have gotten over trying to label me.”

Cas turns to Gabriel and frowns. “Why did you come back? I thought you were leaving.”

“Yeah, was going to, we will in a minute.” Something dawns on Gabriel. “Your boyfriend here wanted to see how you turned out,” he says. 

“My… boyfriend?” Cas gazes blankly at Gabriel, then looks at Dean very closely. “He’s serious? You and me… you and your Castiel?”

Dean looks flummoxed. “Yeah. You mean you’re not?”

Castiel shakes his head.

“What, never?”

“Nope,” says Cas, shaking his head.

Gabriel turns cheerfully to Dean. “This isn’t our future, Dean. I don’t have to be dead, Sam doesn’t have to say ‘yes’ to Lucifer, Castiel doesn’t...”

“Wait, Sam said ‘yes’ to Lucifer?”

“’Fraid so,” Cas says. “He’s safer with you and Castiel, Dean.” Cas leans towards Dean, the most earnest and sober Gabriel has seen him since they got here, the most like his old self. “Whatever misplaced and inappropriate sense of pride might be keeping you and Sam apart now or in the future, it will be your undoing. Swallow it. Help your brother. He needs you and you need him. Promise me.”

“Yeah, Cas… yeah. I will.” Dean stares into Cas’ eyes. Gabriel sees emptiness and despair and Cas doesn’t even bother to hide it. 

Cas breaks contact first and looks away with a small broken smile. “Now, bugger off and make sure all this,” Cas waves a languid arm around, “doesn’t happen.”

Gabriel nods sadly, then he leans in and gives Cas a peck on the cheek and a wink and snaps his fingers.

Gabriel doesn’t take them straight back to Castiel.

“Gabriel, where the hell are we now?” Dean asks, looking around at the black empty night. There are no lights but at least there are stars, which there hadn’t been in the place they’d just left. “When are we?” Dean adds.

“We’re back when we should be and Cas is waiting for us, but Dean, before I take you back to Castiel, promise me something.” Gabriel can’t remember the last time he asked anyone for a favor. He’s much more the ordering people around type. It feels very strange. But then he’s feeling very strange and weirded out by the whole druggie, orgy-organizing Cas thing.

“Maybe,” Dean says noncommittally.

“That wasn’t our future. So Cas doesn’t need to know what things were like. What he was like. So we’re not going to tell him, right?”

Dean waves an arm a little over-dramatically. “Damn straight I’m not going to tell Cas. Gabriel, it’d break his fucking heart. What kind of dick do you take me for?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“It was rhetorical, asshole,” Dean says without any genuine heat. “We actually agree on this. Can we go now?”

When they get back, Gabriel thinks Dean and Castiel aren’t going to do anything except stare at each other all night, but then Castiel turns his head to Gabriel, keeping his eyes on Dean the whole time which is pretty odd-looking, and says “Thank you, Gabriel,” in a choked voice.

“Yeah, no probl… oh.” 

He looks on, like a proud parent, as Castiel and Dean weld their bodies together, holding each other so tight that it’s almost hard to see where one starts and the other ends. Or it would be if Castiel’s trenchcoat didn’t give it away.

Eventually they pull apart, though they’re gripping each other’s biceps like they’re scared the other might disappear, which Gabriel supposes is not an impossibility, or even an improbability in their lives.

“You getting off on this, Gabe?” Dean asks, with that ridiculous nickname he’s given him that Gabriel hates despite the fact that he secretly likes the sentiment of familiarity that lies behind it.

“Absolutely. Um… not. Absolutely not.” 

Dean looks at him suspiciously and turns to Castiel. “I need to ring Sam. We’re getting the team back together.”

### Chapter 9 

The boys have the colt. Gabriel knows it won’t work. Castiel thinks it won’t work, but doesn’t know for sure. Dean and Sam have faith that it will work but it’s blind, hopelessly optimistic faith because if it doesn’t work they don’t have a plan B.

Gabriel can’t decide what to do. On the one hand, this is something he could let play out, just as he has with other events in this countdown to the Apocalypse. Because, shit, this is Lucifer and Lucifer can kill him, and will. On the other hand, this is the first time he’s actually known, in advance, where Lucifer is going to be and he thinks he should be able to do something with that information. All he’s managed to achieve so far in the avoidance of his future death is… well, he’s now drinking buddies with Dean, Sam and Cas but, he thinks self-remonstrating, that’s really not going to be enough. 

There is, of course, the added problem that Gabriel hasn’t, for a while now, been able to guarantee that everyone will play their part as they did the first time around in the original timeline. Up until now it’s only had minor repercussions, some good, some bad, but an encounter with Lucifer can hardly be left to chance. Even first time around people died. Not the people he personally knows, it’s true, but people that matter to the people that matter to him. And much to his undying frustration, he cares. 

The other hand looks like it carries the most weight at the moment even if he only has a figment of an idea, no plan, and he’s shit-scared.

While he makes up his mind, he’s having his last night on Earth party. He has a last night on Earth party every night, just in case. And while he calls it a party it’s really just him, Castiel and Dean mark II, and some very good, even if he says so himself, facsimiles of a barmaid he met recently who he thought would look even better if she was one of triplets. So now she is, even if it’s only here. Alphonse has left two bottles of Krug, on ice, a huge plate of French fancies, and some chocolate-coated strawberries. One of the triplets is rubbing an ice-cube over his pert left nipple and Castiel mark II is stroking a feather along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, both normally excellent distractions for his recently discovered, unwelcome conscience but annoyingly not working so well tonight.

Perhaps what he needs right now is a real conversation with real people and not just ‘oh, yes, more, less, up a bit, down a bit, oh, yes, fuck, right the fuck there’. 

Good God, he thinks, slapping a hand on his forehead in genuine horror. When did he get to the stage where he’d forgo the pleasures of the flesh for inane conversation with two boys, an old drunk and a fallen angel?

The orgasm, when it comes, is matter-of-fact, rote, run of the mill, temporary, not the full-blown unabashed pleasure he normally allows himself. He sighs, depressed. Getting up and snapping his fingers to dress, he pockets a supply of candies and wishes away the girls and the men. 

He arrives at Bobby’s to find Ellen and Jo trying to get Castiel drunk on Tequila shots. It looks as if it might be working. He leans into Castiel’s face and peers into his wide eyes, which are lacking the precision of complete focus.

“Well done, ladies. Between Dean and the two of you, Heaven’s most innocent angel is thoroughly debauched.” 

Dean scowls at him. 

Castiel frowns and picks up another Tequila shot. “I think I’m starting to feel something,” he says with a slight slur as he downs it, followed by three others. Gabriel grins and claps Castiel on the shoulder in encouragement.

Dean, Sam and Bobby are sitting around Bobby’s desk and Gabriel walks over to join them. “I still don’t think this has a chance of working.” No-one says anything so he shrugs. “You’re still gonna try?”

“Yep,” says Dean. “Carthage here we come.” Dean picks up the bottle and pours them all a generous measure of good single malt scotch. “You coming with?”

“I’ll be there,” Gabriel sighs before elaborating. “I’ll watch from a distance. No point in putting all our eggs in one basket.”

Dean tries to hide it but Gabriel can tell he’s pleased. “Good.” Dean waves the bottle at him with a question.

“Nah, I’m good. Wasted on me,” says Gabriel and pulls out a candy instead.

He could leave now, but he stays, because he wants to and he likes that nobody’s surprised that he stays. He listens to Sam, Dean and Bobby get drunk and talk about nonsensical and inconsequential things and he watches the two women enjoying the game of leading Castiel astray and thinks there are worse ways of spending your last night on Earth. Or theirs.

Gabriel takes his leave early the next day well before Jo and Ellen drive off with Castiel in the back of the four-by-four and Dean and Sam follow with Bobby in the Impala. 

He goes to Carthage. He still has only a vague idea of what he’s going to do and he settles in nervously to wait. 

By the time he arrives, let alone by the time the two cars arrive a few hours later, the reapers are already here and the town’s already been devastated by Lucifer. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid, not that he minds the odd lie, even to himself. He unwraps a candy and sucks on it slowly, lingering over it for so long he ends up with melted chocolate all over his fingers and spends a good ten minutes licking it off, which would be awesome under different circumstances.

As soon as the cars arrive, Jo, Ellen and Cas get out of one while Dean, Sam and Bobby drive on. Castiel, the stupid idiot, wanders away from the others pretty much immediately, looking left and right at the reapers in the street all around him. And, yes, it is pretty amazing to see so many reapers in one place, but Cas should know better. He keeps forgetting that he’s only half the angel he used to be. Gabriel should maybe stop him but he keeps watching and doesn’t interfere. 

He turns his attention to the others. The others had split up but now Jo and Ellen are back in their car and pulling up next to Dean, Sam and Bobby. He can feel their agitation. He carefully gets closer so he can hear, without being seen. It’s not his friends he’s hiding from, but his older brother.

“Have you seen Cas?” Ellen asks. 

“What? He was with you,” says Sam. 

“Nope. He went after the reapers.” 

“Reapers?” Dean checks. 

“He saw reapers? Where?” Sam peers down the street. 

“Well, kind of everywhere,” Says Jo.

They start walking back towards where Jo and Ellen last saw Cas, hefting their shotguns, looking around at the empty streets, seeing and sensing nothing of the reapers they are unwittingly weaving around. 

Gabriel seeks out Castiel and finds him trapped in a ring of holy fire and he winces in sympathy. It’s been a long, long time since he’s been in the same situation, it’s true, but that doesn’t make it any less memorable. When he senses that Lucifer is also there he shudders and withdraws nervously, with embarrassing speed, before Lucifer catches the scent of his exploring grace. Gabriel justifies it to himself, not very convincingly, by reasoning that Castiel isn’t in immediate danger. Lucifer could’ve just killed him, so it’s not ideal, but at least Cas can’t get in too much trouble where he is. Gabriel goes back to watching the others.

“Well, this is great, been in town twenty minutes and already lost the angel up our sleeve.” Dean mutters. 

“You think Lucifer got him?” asks Sam. He looks worried. 

“I don't know what else to think.” Dean draws the group to a halt. “Has anyone seen Gabriel?” Four heads shake a negative. “Okay, so we’ll split up. Bobby, you and me will go look for Cas. Sam, Jo, Ellen - keep looking around here. Meet back here in thirty.”

There are four affirmative nods, like Dean’s plan to split up is actually a good idea. Gabriel’s pretty sure he doesn’t agree.

Gabriel watches Bobby and Dean head in Castiel and Lucifer’s direction. The others head 180 degrees in the other direction, scouring the street as they go. He’s torn. He has no clear idea what to do for the best. About all he knows about what happens here in the original timeline is Lucifer raised and bound Death, Jo and Ellen didn’t make it out, and the colt didn’t kill Lucifer. He’s not here to save Jo and Ellen, but he can and maybe he should. But Bobby and Dean are heading towards Castiel who, last time he checked, was having a cozy chat with big brother, Lucifer.

Life never used to be this frigging hard. Sex, candy, tricks, kill a few assholes, sex, candy, tricks. Not hard. Of course, that was before he had fucking friends. Whose stupid idea was that?

Ultimately there’s no choice. He can’t let Dean run into Lucifer. Cas would never forgive him and he doesn’t think he can live with an unforgiving Cas for long. Having said that, there’s absolutely no way he’s just going to walk in there either, so he sets up a diversion. A few suspicious - but not so suspicious it actually gives the game away - angelic signs in a warehouse a dozen blocks away, which proves so ridiculously easy in drawing Lucifer away that he briefly wonders if Lucifer allowed it, but then decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He watches long enough to be certain that Dean and Bobby now have a straightforward rescue, then he goes back to follow Sam, Jo and Ellen. 

It’s fairly obvious quite quickly that he’s not the only one following them. The demon that stops in their way isn’t the biggest of their problems either. There are fourteen hellhounds with her and they look pissed. But then hellhounds always look pissed. 

“Meg,” says Sam. 

“Shouldn't have come here, Sam.” 

Sam pulls out the demon-killing knife. “I could say the same thing for you.” 

“Didn't come here alone.” 

A hellhound puts a paw forward and splashes in a puddle near Meg’s feet and Gabriel sees all the hellhounds start to creep forward, and he hears their growls loud and clear. It’s obvious the others do too. 

“Hellhounds,” Sam says, taking a half-step back. 

“Your call, Sam. My father wants to see you.” 

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

Gabriel sees Dean, Bobby and Castiel come around the corner at a run at about the same time the others do. 

Dean has the colt in hand and takes a shot and blood spurts from the hellhound next to Meg’s feet, spraying out into the air and dissolving through the pavement where it lands with an acidic hiss and bubble.

“Run!” Sam yells and everyone does, scattering towards the buildings that line one side of the abandoned street.

Castiel, able to see the hellhounds, stands his ground, trying to stop the rush of the creatures and give his friends time to get away, but even Gabriel would need to put some effort into dispatching the thirteen remaining hellhounds, or even holding them off, and Castiel has lost before he’s begun.

“Run, all of you!” Cas shouts into the confusion, “I can hold them off, but not for long!” Cas has his sword drawn and is staring down a particularly brave, or stupid, hound. When it rushes him, Cas holds his sword out in front of him and the creature leaps clean onto the blade.

Its dying howl attracts the others and they’re all now focused on Castiel. The fucking demon is standing, laughing and watching the show with commentary.

“Brave little Clarence… two down, lots and lots to go… think you can take them…? Somehow I don’t… I’ll miss you if that’s any consolation… oh, look, little Deano’s coming back to rescue you…”.

That makes Castiel turn round. “Dean, go back.”

“No fucking way, Cas. I’m not leaving you alone with those bitches.”

Two hounds take advantage of Castiel while he’s distracted. One takes a swipe across his chest, and he swings around to meet it, slicing across its side, wounding it but not killing it. The other one leaps on his back as the injured hound prepares for another attack and Gabriel watches Castiel go down under its weight. Dean doesn’t need to physically see it to find it with the colt and a line of blood in the air marks its progress as it falls away to one side.

Castiel is standing up shakily, the front of his shirt is red, not white and the coat at his back has tears in it, the edges soaked with his blood. 

Enough is enough; Gabriel appears to one side of the group and smites a hellhound targeting Sam with a snap of fingers. 

Dean stares at him in anger, his back to Castiel. “Where the fuck have you been, Gabriel? Cas could’ve been killed.”

“I’m fine,” says Cas and finishes off the injured hellhound to try and prove his point.

Sam is still making a beeline for the buildings, herding Jo and Ellen along with him. The hellhounds must have decided they are easier targets, as most change direction and head their way. Gabriel gets up close to one that’s nearly on Ellen and smites it. He turns around to face the others and two more quickly follow. He glances sideways where Castiel has stabbed another one with his blade. There’s one running towards Jo, and another two cornering Sam. 

Gabriel gets to the two threatening Sam, gets one of them quickly but the second manages to sink a claw into Sam’s arm as he holds it defensively in front of his chest. Gabriel kills the hound before it can do any real damage but still Sam’s wincing and cursing at the sting in his arm.

He sees Dean running towards Jo and Castiel running towards Dean. He hears Castiel shout out, “Dean!” followed by a yell of pain, but doesn’t have time to look before the last two hounds charge at him. He gets one but the other stops and he has to move in closer before finishing it off. There’s a final yelp off to one side and then a lot of swearing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He turns towards the noise. It’s Dean, of course. He’s holding Cas upright with one hand on his arm and the other around his back. There’s a lot of blood and Gabriel frowns and takes a step in their direction but Castiel catches the movement, looks up at him and shakes his head slightly and nods towards the others.

Jo and Ellen are looking shocked and frightened. “Is it over?” Jo asks, nervously looking around.

Gabriel nods. “Yeah, they’ve gone.” He looks down the street. The demon, Meg, has gone too.

Sam’s nursing his arm and Gabriel goes over and checks. Sam lets him, trusting as Gabriel peels the cloth of his shirt away and looks at the wound underneath. It’s nasty but it could be worse. 

“You’ll live, big boy,” says Gabriel putting Sam’s other hand back on the injury to keep pressure on it.

“Can you heal Sam?” Dean asks harshly, nodding that way, still holding onto Castiel.

Gabriel shakes his head apologetically, “Angels can’t heal hellhound wounds.” He clicks his fingers and sets upon the huge candy cane that appears with enthusiasm. He needs the sugar after all that scary stuff. 

“I’ll be okay,” Sam says, “I’ve had worse.”

Dean peers at Sam, looking for the truth and, seemingly satisfied, turns back to Castiel and tries to take his coat off and lift his shirt away from his bloody side. Castiel stands up straighter and brushes Dean’s hands away. 

“I’m fine, Dean.” Dean doesn’t like that. With an irritated grunt he takes his hands away, but he stays close. It would be funny but Gabriel can sympathize. He can see Castiel trembling lightly under his clothes and resists the urge to go to his brother. There’s nothing he can do for Castiel’s injuries either and Castiel knows it.

Castiel walks slowly away from Dean and towards Gabriel, taking each step carefully as if each footfall is painful, which it undoubtably is. He’s doing that staring thing he does. Gabriel doesn’t know how he can do that for so long without blinking; it’s spooky. When Castiel reaches Gabriel, Gabriel takes his elbow and they turn and walk a little away from the others, out of earshot.

“Seriously, Castiel, again? You should take more care of yourself.”

“I’m fine,” says Castiel with a scowl, though Gabriel notices he’s leaning heavily into Gabriel’s supporting hand. “Something significant is happening here,” Castiel continues looking around and waving his free hand loosely to gesticulate at the town in general, before turning the full power of his gaze back to Gabriel. 

“You think?” Gabriel asks, sarcastically.

Castiel ignores the tone, “I think you know what,” he says deliberately.

Gabriel leans in close. “Yeah, well, I’ve got an idea. But you’re not going to like it.” 

“I don’t like anything about this. Can it get worse?”

Gabriel shrugs nervously, “Yeah, actually.” Gabriel pauses for effect. He wonders if he should maybe conjure up a drum-roll. Maybe not. “Lucifer’s going to raise Death.”

“Death?” Cas narrows his eyes in focus on Gabriel, seeking what, Gabriel doesn’t know. Maybe honesty, maybe sincerity. “That does make sense.” Castiel says eventually. He looks over to the others who are regrouping. “We have to get them out of here.”

“Agreed. I have a plan and I need your help, but I’m not sure you’re up to it.”

“I’m fine, Gabriel,” says Castiel, testily.

Gabriel holds up his free hand in a placating gesture. “Whoa, fine, fine. I want to bind Death. You still want in?”

Castiel stares at him. Gabriel’s not sure if this is his normal stare, his ‘that’s an amazingly brilliant idea’ stare or his…

”You’re mad,” Castiel says. 

Oh, it was that stare.

### Chapter 10 

To say that Sam, Dean, Bobby, Ellen and Jo weren’t happy to be unceremoniously dumped back at Bobby’s by Gabriel is putting it mildly.

“You know we’re both going to suffer for that later, don’t you?” Castiel says, a rare wry smile on his face, when Gabriel returns empty-handed to Carthage.

“Only if we survive,” Gabriel returns.

“Which is unlikely,” Castiel agrees seriously and Gabriel gives him a dirty look. He takes Castiel’s wrist and flies them both to a small house on the other side of town. “You know, this would be easier if you could fly right now? And I think you’ve put on weight.”

“I have not put on weight.”

Gabriel smiles, big and wide and Castiel turns away from him, scowling. Gabriel watches as Castiel clears a table and draws some inter-connecting sigils on the surface. When he’s done, Castiel starts to chant.

“See you soon, bro,” says Gabriel and flies to a field on the other side of Carthage.

Dozens of men are standing in the field staring at something just out of sight. They’ve been there for hours, waiting for Lucifer. It’s still daylight but its waning, the sun low in the sky. Gabriel knows that Lucifer won’t move until it’s dark, probably not until midnight. His big brother likes drama. He eats a candy bar to keep his energy up and his nerves down.

Gabriel waits until he sees the electrical storms forming, isolated, flashy and loud over the side of town where he left Castiel. He waits a few minutes after that until he sees the storms start to spawn other storms all over the town, each no more than a few meters across. He waits a little longer until all the spawned storms start to head back towards the central storm. He waits as long as he dares for Castiel. Castiel doesn’t come.

He swears but has no choice but to start. The distraction Castiel set up won’t keep Lucifer and his hoards occupied for long.

Gabriel flies to the mound of earth in the center of the field. It’s a mass grave created by Lucifer when he’d killed all the townsfolk. He can’t do anything about that but he can feel the souls writhing, and thanks to their interference they’re about to go to a better place. Or at least the ones who deserve to will.

The demons in the field are just zombies. They don’t acknowledge his presence or even seem to register that he’s there.

Gabriel takes in a deep breath, flings his arms wide and chants. He stumbles a little over the Enochian pronunciation, which is unfamiliar through disuse. As he chants, he begins to stretch just a little outside of his vessel and he glows red, orange, and green in turns, iridescent and pulsing.

The ground rumbles and the sky above him seems to undulate. The air shimmies as if in a heat haze.

Gabriel keeps chanting. He spots a flash of tan in the periphery of his vision and Castiel stumbles into the field and towards the mound looking harried. But he’s alive and Gabriel’s so relieved he puts extra weight and power into his tone, almost without thinking.

He turns to the demons. Castiel looks away and seems to be praying. This is their ‘the means justifies the end’ moment. “I offer up these lives, blood, and souls to complete this tribute.”

One by one the demons flash gold and fall to the ground.

The ground shakes and soil starts spilling out of the mound as if something’s trying to crawl out, which it is, sort of. Gabriel pulls himself back into his vessel and flies to Castiel and not a moment too soon. Lucifer is suddenly there, appearing in front of the mass grave and not surprisingly he’s pretty pissed off. He looks around for someone to destroy. Gabriel doesn’t give him the chance to find them. He grabs Castiel and flies them back to Bobby’s.

“The hell, Gabriel?” Dean yells as soon as he sees them.

Gabriel lets go of Castiel and Dean grabs him before he face plants onto Bobby’s ancient carpet.

“Don’t get blood on my couch,” grumbles Bobby as Dean lowers Cas into the creaky furniture.

Gabriel stands in the middle of the room and chants a few words.

“What are you doing?” asks Sam.

“Calling Death,” says Gabriel, briefly interrupting the chanting.

“I don’t want Death to know where I live,” says Bobby, with a horrified expression.

“Death knows where everybody lives, Bobby,” Gabriel says briefly before carrying on with the chanting. 

The thin man in the black overcoat who appears before them isn’t quite what Gabriel expected. He pauses. “Um.”

“You called me to Earth, bound me to you, and all you can say is ‘um’? You pathetic little ant.” Death sounds annoyed.

Gabriel finds his composure, pulls out two chocolate bars and offers one to Death. The others are looking at him as if he’s mad, which possibly he is. 

“Yeah, about that, Death. Sorry about the whole binding thing but better us than Lucifer, eh?”

“That remains to be seen.” Death takes a chocolate bar, opens it delicately, takes a bite, and nods in approval. Death looks around the room. He lingers on Dean and Castiel on the couch, he pauses over Bobby standing by the fireplace, he frowns at Jo and Ellen standing close in each other’s space by the bookcase near the door to the kitchen, then he swings back to Gabriel and raises an eyebrow. “Interesting,” He says. “So many things that should not be. And all in one place.”

“Not relevant,” Gabriel says quickly, drawing Death’s attention back to the point, and away from dangerous and unnecessary explanations. “I’ll unbind you, but we’ve got a deal for you first,” says Gabriel.

“Go on.” Death takes another bite of the chocolate bar.

Gabriel explains. “We want to kill Lucifer.”

“I could re-cage him for you more easily,” Death says.

“Not good enough.”

“Hey,” Dean says, interrupting. “It’s good enough for me.”

“Won’t work, Dean. Trust me. Raphael will just work out a way to get him out again.” He turns to Death. “Am I right, or am I right?”

Death ponders for a second, then agrees. “You’re most likely right.”

“So, big guy, what d’you say?”

Death answers by taking off his ring. He hands it to Gabriel. “A seal on the deal. Now unbind me.”

Gabriel does. 

“Phew,” he says after Death has disappeared. “That was awesome! I haven’t felt this alive since… since… I can’t even remember. Guys. Awesome! Yes?”

The others are alternating between looking at the ring in his hand, and then up to his face, staring in slack-jawed confusion and not saying anything. Gabriel shrugs. They’ve got no appreciation for the finer tricks, teases and deals. More fool them.

Gabriel walks over to Dean and Castiel on the couch. He touches two fingers to Castiel’s forehead and Castiel slumps against Dean.

“What’d you do?” Dean asks, alarmed.

“He needs to sleep, don’t you think? If I know my little bro, he’s hardly going to do it voluntarily.”

Dean pulls Cas in to his side, holding Cas’ head steady against his shoulder with one hand, “He’ll be okay, though, won’t he?”

“Sure. He’s Cas. Luck of the angels.” Gabriel winks, “Now boys,” he says, pocketing the ring. “I’ve got an amazing orgasm waiting for me.” He snaps his fingers, but not before, with satisfaction, he sees the looks of disgust on the faces in the room.

### Chapter 11 

For all that he’s lived millions of years Gabriel has absolutely zero patience. 

High on the success with Death, he’s more eager than he’d like to admit to get it over with and see Lucifer gone. He wants to be able to get on with his life which he is actually starting to enjoy, new friends, re-discovered younger sibling and all. 

But there’s been no word of Lucifer and it’s been weeks; he’s at a loose end.

He’d gone back to Bobby’s the night after Carthage and stayed for two days until Dean had told him to fuck off; that he was perfectly capable of looking after Cas and would Gabriel please stop fussing and checking Cas’ bandages and trying to give him drugs and alcohol. At which point Castiel had told them both to fuck off so he could get some sleep and heal in peace and Dean had got pissed off at Gabriel, blaming him for upsetting Castiel. It had all got a bit heated and blatantly ridiculous. So Gabriel had gone home to sulk for a few days.

But he’d been back not long after when Anna had turned up unexpectedly, threatening to de-molecularize Sam - and yes Gabriel knows that’s not a real word - and Dean had made Castiel take them all back in time; Cas had got stuck there so Gabriel had to go and get him. Honestly, the guy had only just got his wings back and then he was running around in time. Dean had got an earful from Gabriel for making Cas take them with him (that he’d taken like a man to give him his due). Castiel had got an earful from both of them for taking them in the first place, which, in true Castiel stubbornness, he’d simply allowed to wash over him.

When Gabriel had got word of something that sounded a lot like Famine, he simply distracted everyone with a werewolf hunt in the opposite direction. It had been easy; it’s all easy when everyone trusts him and they really seem to.

Distractions don’t work quite so well when the threat is entirely human, and as a result both he and Castiel fail to see it coming. When the news comes through on the angel messenger board that Dean and Sam Winchester are dead it’s Castiel who calls him. Cas isn’t worried, why would he be? There’s no way Raphael and Zachariah will let them stay dead, but he’s still on his damn search for their father and Cas wants his help reaching Dean and Sam in Heaven.

“You know I’ve talked to Joshua, don’t you?” Gabriel says, trying to deflect because he just knows no good will come of this.

Cas gives him a sideways glance. “You don’t have any interest in finding our father.”

Which is true. If they did find God, and if he came back to Heaven, chances are he’d gather all his children together once more and that would mean Gabriel would have to go home and he doesn’t want to. Not at all. So he does what any decent big brother would do; he agrees to help all the time keeping his fingers crossed behind his back. 

Then he goes to Heaven and persuades Joshua to lie to the Winchesters, to tell them that God doesn’t care. It turns out Joshua was going to do that anyway because Joshua hasn’t heard a peep out of God for a long time but is keen to keep up appearances so he can continue to take advantage of the perks that come with his preferential status. The guy’s not as sweet as he looks. 

What Gabriel hadn’t counted on was Castiel taking it so damned hard.

He tries to make it up to him by taking Castiel drinking. That doesn’t work out too well; Gabriel probably could have guessed that Cas isn’t a happy drunk. Gabriel does find out that Castiel prefers brandy to whisky and dry white wine to beer and that up until now, the only reason he’s drank beer and whisky is because Dean does, which is kind of sweet but also a little sad. Gabriel gets them a warehouse full of good wine and good brandy and they sit on a busy beach on a warm evening getting not-so-quietly smashed.

Castiel decides, drunkenly, that the thought that God isn’t there at all would be less depressing than knowing he’s there but just doesn’t care. Great. A really unhappy drunk.

A stunning couple try to chat them up and Gabriel’s more than game but Castiel still has enough of his wits about him to tell them he’s taken, which they don’t seem to mind but it seems Cas does. Dean’s a lucky guy, thinks Gabriel ruefully and if Gabriel’s slightly envious too, no one’s going to know.

Gabriel gets them mango ice-creams to compensate for the loss of the stunning couple. There’s always later.

He’s falling asleep on the sand when Cas asks sleepily, “When are you from, Gabriel?” 

Gabriel turns sharply to look at him, searching for some kind of censure on Cas’ face, but there’s none. Which probably means he’s really, really drunk.

“What makes you think I’m not from now?” Gabriel hedges.

“Do I look stupid, Gabriel? I’ve known for a while.” Castiel had been lying on his back but now he rolls over wonkily on one elbow and looks across at Gabriel with a comically drunken eyebrow trying to lift itself to convey curiosity. It just looks like a tipsy caterpillar crawling on his face.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gabriel says. “I’m nearly back now anyway.”

“Hmmph. Then why?”

“How drunk are you?” 

“Very,” says Cas seriously.

“Will you remember any of this?”

“Probably not.”

Gabriel laughs out loud in amusement. “Okay. I did it for purely selfish reasons.” Which is the truth. Or was a few months ago, anyway. 

Castiel pouts. “I don’t believe you.”

“Your prerogative. Come on, assbutt,” he says, pulling Castiel to his very wobbly feet, “Time to get you home.”

Castiel giggles. “Assbutt,” he says, peering at Gabriel through bleary eyes. “Assbutt, assbutt.”

Gabriel drops Cas off at Bobby’s and goes back to the beach and the still-keen lovely couple waiting there. 

It’s only after the event that he finds out about the whole Whore of Babylon fiasco. Gabriel drops in towards the end and Dean leans in and thanks him for taking care of Cas while he went on his bender. Gabriel sucks up the praise and has almost convinced himself, let alone everyone else, what a great guy he is. 

He points a finger at Castiel, who’s lying on the bed looking a little the worse for wear. 

“What’s up with him? He still hungover?”

“No,” says Dean, explaining about the Enochian ritual the whore used on him.

“Ouch. Seriously, Cas, only half an angel, remember?” says Gabriel, pulling a face and going over to check. He gives an amused snort when Castiel just waves him away with a put-upon look. “He’ll live.”

“Yeah, he’s sulking,” says Dean, “I think it’s because he got beaten up by a girl.” Castiel draws his mouth into a thin, disapproving line and goes back to his sulking. Dean blows him a sarcastic kiss.

Gabriel pulls a few chocolate bars out of the air and gives one to everyone in the room, except Cas, but including a bruised and bleeding pastor who seems to be hanging around speechlessly. Gabriel’s feeling generous so he snaps a finger and heals the guy’s injuries.

Sam sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, dropping the bandages he’d been wrapping around the pastor’s arm and starting to unwrap what he’d already done.

### Chapter 12 

Gabriel sticks around for a while and he’s done it so many times before that Sam and Dean just shrug and accept it. But this time is different. Gabriel is no longer in the past. It hits him like a ton of bricks around about the time he realizes Cas, Dean and Sam had dealt with the Whore of Babylon while he was being blown by Castiel and Dean mark II in a hot tub filled with grapefruit flavored sparkling wine (well you wouldn’t drink it so you might as well bathe in it).

He feels like a wimp but this is the first time he’s lived in new time for months and it’s scary. He hadn’t known everything that had been going on before, but for some reason it was still a comfort to know that time had already been and gone, that he’d already lived it in some way.

There does come that point though, where everyone is looking at him suspiciously, trying to work out why he’s still there, when he thinks he’s either going to have to leave or he’s going to have to explain what’s about to go down. Obviously, he leaves.

Dean and Castiel mark II have been his constant over the past few months and it’s no different now, with Dean mark II standing behind him, massaging the tension out of his shoulders, while Castiel mark II straddles his hips and eases himself slowly up and down in a steady rhythm on Gabriel’s cock. Castiel mark II’s deep-blue eyes gaze unblinking at Gabriel while he rides him. Gabriel leans his head back on his neck and looks up at Dean mark IIs beautiful green orbs regarding him adoringly.

Gabriel thinks he might have to replace them soon. Much as he enjoys their ministrations, it’s actually starting to feel a bit weird now that he’s spending so much time with the real Dean and Castiel. Still, that doesn’t mean to say he shouldn’t enjoy it right this minute. He motions with the beckoning fingers of one hand for Dean mark II to move around to his side and he licks absently at the head of Dean mark II’s cock, which, because it’s his fantasy and he can do what he likes, tastes sweet instead of salty and sour. He lets himself forget, for a while, that a decision to replace Dean and Castiel mark II might be one he never has to make.

~~xxx~~

Gabriel would be pacing if he did that sort of thing. Because he doesn’t, he’s been stuffing his face full of all his favorite sweet things instead. 

He thinks about going back and chilling with his friends. His friends are busy though. Cas is off following up some lead about Pestilence, and Dean and Sam are on a road trip and Gabriel hates riding in the car. He doesn’t have quite the same level of attachment to Bobby; the man watches him all the time in an eerie, intense way. He could go and see Jo because Jo is really, really hot and also good fun, but he doesn’t think he can put up with Ellen’s guard dog routine right now.

He knows he’s waiting for some event that might never happen in this timeline, but although some things have indubitably changed, nothing fundamental and basic has, so he’s keeping his fingers crossed. If not his legs. The prayer is still a relief though. Aimed at both him and at Castiel, it gets followed up with a text message. Nothing like a bit of millennia old faith mixed with modern technology as a fall back.

‘Elysian Fields Hotel. Something odd’s going down,’ reads the text.

An hour later, another arrives. ‘Think you guys might want to join us? We just saw an elephant.’

Ganesh. Gabriel sighs. Time to go.

Dean and Sam are in the ballroom with an impressive gathering of Gods. Including Kali. The only one who got away. Gabriel rarely has regrets but Kali is one of his. Still, priorities.

He’s on the verge of making a grand entrance when he hears a familiar gravelly voice from inside the room. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters under his breath. Castiel got here first. Of course he would when his precious Dean and Sam are in danger.

Gabriel peers through the gap between the doors to the ballroom. 

“Who are you?” Baldur faces up to Castiel, who’s placed himself between Dean and Sam and the rest of the table, as far as he can.

“Castiel,” says Castiel and Gabriel wills him to stop there, but he doesn’t. Gabriel seriously needs to teach him how to lie, “An Angel of the Lord.”

The Gods around the table laugh.

Baldur smiles a serpent-like smile. “So glad to have you here. We’re actually here to discuss your apocalypse. Perhaps you can provide some insight?”

“Let the boys go.”

“No.”

Castiel takes a wrathful step forward, “Let them go and I’ll stay.”

“Cas, no,” Dean says loudly, straining ineffectively against his restraints. Everyone in the room ignores him.

“I tell you what,” says Kali, “we’ll put them somewhere more comfortable while we have our little chat. If we like what we hear, we’ll let them go.”

Castiel appears to consider it, head on one side; he eventually nods.

Gabriel can’t believe Cas is that gullible but then he hears his prayer. ‘Gabriel, I know you are here. Take Sam and Dean away.’ Damn clever fucker.

‘Castiel. I heard, but I’ll be back.’ Cas gives an imperceptible acknowledgement, nodding his head very slightly.

Gabriel finds Sam and Dean in their hotel room and despite Dean’s loud protestations, he tries to zap them out but he can’t. He frowns, “Kali’s put a blood spell on you. You guys are on a short leash. Let’s at least move you somewhere safer.” 

In the end, he leaves them in the Impala and scratches a ward to hide them from prying eyes onto the roof with a stone from the car park.

“My fucking car! You dickwad.”

“Do you want me to save your asses and your frigging boyfriend’s too, or not?”

Dean shuts up.

Gabriel flies back into the corridor outside the ballroom doors once again. Things have changed somewhat. Castiel is standing surrounded by the blood and gore of several Gods. Gabriel hopes Kali got out, but he finds he cares less about that than about Cas getting out.

Castiel’s staring at something – someone – to one side of the doors, glowering, actually, and Gabriel can’t see Lucifer, but he can feel him. 

He can’t help it; he’s nervous as fuck. He stands for longer than he should, building up his courage, turning and leaning his back briefly against the wall outside the room, taking deep breaths.

Sam and Dean turn up. 

“For fuck’s sake, I told you to stay in the car,” he hisses.

“Thought you might need help,” says Dean. “Where’s Cas?” 

Gabriel’s impatient response is interrupted by a heavy thud from inside. He peers through the gap. Castiel is struggling up from where he’s been thrown against a wall. Lucifer moves into view. There’s a smile on his face, like a cat playing with a mouse. 

“Stay here,” Gabriel instructs Sam and Dean, and zaps open the ballroom doors with an impressive display of angelic oomph.

“Luci, I’m home.” He picks up Castiel and sends him stumbling towards the brothers. “Guys! Get him out of here.”

“Over our little fallen rebel. Gabriel, really?” Lucifer turns to face him.

“Lucifer, you're my brother. And I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks,” Gabriel says with more confidence than he feels.

“Wait, what did you just say to me?” 

“Look at yourself! Boo hoo! Daddy was mean to me, so I'm gonna smash up all his toys.” 

“Watch your tone.”

“Play the victim all you want. But you and me? We know the truth. Dad loved you best. More than Michael, more than me. Then he brought the new baby home and you couldn't handle it. So this is all just one big temper tantrum. Time to grow up.”

“Gabriel, if you're doing this for Michael...”

“Screw him. If he were standing here, I'd shiv his ass too.”

“You disloyal—“

“Oh, I'm loyal. To them!”

“Who? These so called Gods?” 

“To people, Lucifer. People.” 

“So you're willing to die, for a pile of cockroaches. Why?”

“Because Dad was right. They are better than us. And you know what?” Gabriel adds. “Castiel knew it. Castiel knew it way back. I should’ve listened to him the first time.”

“What are you talking about, Gabriel? Castiel’s an abomination. He’ll perish with a snap of my fingers. As will you.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Luci. Not this time.” Gabriel takes a ring out of his jacket pocket and twirls it on the end of his finger, “Care to look behind you?” 

Lucifer shifts his eyes sideways and looks over his shoulder. 

“Hello, Lucifer,” Death says.

### Epilogue

Gabriel finally has an emotional break-up (by means of a very well-attended orgy) with Dean and Castiel mark II a year later, the day before he invites his friends over for an anniversary party. The mark IIs don’t care, but he’ll miss them. He’s got some excellent ideas for the mark IIIs though.


End file.
